Rituals
by silvercoat
Summary: Complete. Follow up to the earlier 'Fallout'. Takes place towards end of season 1. Action/adventure.
1. Chapter 1

**Rituals**

A/N:  
Rated T, moderate violence.  
Action/Drama.  
TSCC universe, towards the end of season one.  
Featuring John/Sarah/Derek/Cameron  
Four chapters. Status complete.

A follow up to the "Fallout" story I did earlier, though it's not essential to have read that first, there are a few minor-spoilers in here.  
I have experimented with the writing style , I'm still very new to this. I was trying to compress the 'boring' bits into the first chapter, so I could hurry along to the action. Let me know if it works (or not!)  
Also, I know next to nothing about American football (or cheerleading), so I'm taking some artistic license. But if we can have time-travelling robots, I think I can be forgiven for getting some details wrong.

28May2009: Completed. Chapters 2-4 added. Minor fixups to chapter 1.

Chapter 1:

_Thumpity-thump  
Thumpity-thump_

It was a Saturday, and this was the first train journey that John had taken for a long time. "Too dangerous," his mother had always said. "You're placing yourself in other peoples hands."

Derek sat opposite, staring out of the window at the unspoilt landscape as it scudded past. He had on that thousand yard stare again, and yet his eyes were also moist. The way that Derek's eyes sometimes were, when he was given time to think of the future, and the past. John decided to leave him alone. His mother was asleep, she looked peaceful, the first time for over a week. Cameron was looking around the carriage, as always searching for danger.

John took out his notebook. Cameron had suggested he should keep a diary. A strange idea, but having started, he found it a relaxing way to order his thoughts. If anyone outside the family had found it, they would think it was the plans for a sci-fi novel, or the ramblings of a demented mind. He scanned through recent entries before starting on the non-events of the day so far.

_Thumpity-thump  
Thumpity-thump_

Sunday:  
The start of a strange week. The handover of Alice had gone well. Cameron had said that the factory had been "decommissioned". In the news it had merely said that a factory had been destroyed by fire. John was not sure what had happened, but there were roadblocks set up. These were still in place, which was why the train journey was required. To have roadblocks in place a week later made John think that not all was as it appeared. Even though the news had said that there were no casualties.

His mother had been hurt in the incident, though not badly. Cameron however had taken severe flesh damage, especially to her back. Thankfully her face had missed the worst of it. She had assured him that she would soon heal, but she had had to cover up to go to school. Luckily she did not flinch when Morris has slapped her on the back.

_Thumpity-thump  
Thumpity-thump_

Monday:  
His mother had remained in bed. Though she seemed fine physically, her mental state was fragile. Not something he had ever thought could be applied to her. At school, Cheri was off for the week. Understandable in the circumstances. He had signed up for the football trials, and Cameron for the cheerleading. John chuckled when he re-read this, no one could have predicted how that was going to turn out.

When they had got home, Cameron had handed over a USB flash drive. "I wanted to check the contents first." She had said, "It contains information on a very early and primitive type of terminator chip. It should be useful to teach you about us."

That night John had examined the files. The chips described were little more than a complex microprocessor, and large memory, as found in mobile phones or computers. But there were other files which explained how the data was stored, how the software worked. Priceless information. Cameron had not explained how she had obtained it, but it had to have come from the factory. The information on the mechanical interface had prompted John to question Cameron. He had always thought it odd that she had been able to defeat Cromartie and Vick.  
"How do you beat triple 8s?" He had asked, "They are bigger than you, in much the same way that Derek is stronger than me, though we are both flesh and blood."  
"Software." She had replied. "They are programmed to defeat humans. You programmed me to defeat terminators. I can anticipate their moves, they cannot anticipate mine."

_Thumpity-thump  
Thumpity-thump_

Tuesday:  
His mother had been up and about that morning. She'd appeared bright and cheerful, but her mood had changed abruptly when she saw the news on the television. Cheri's father, Dr Westin, was answering reporters questions to explain that the factory explosion had been due to stored chemicals. For reasons that John was still baffled by, his mother seemed devastated by this. Was she concerned that the chemicals may harm her? Cameron would not explain, only saying that they had to be more careful than usual.

Derek had suggested that they practice football in the garden after school, with the trials being the day after. It had seemed a good idea. They practised tackling Cameron, which John had enjoyed for some reason. Though he'd preferred not to think about the reasons why. Derek had got a bit carried away with the demonstrations of what-not-to-do. "You must not kick them in the nuts." He had said, launching into a vicious kick between Cameron's legs. "Or hit them with objects you find on the pitch." At which point Derek had picked up a rake and hit Cameron across the head. It was at this point that they had become aware that their neighbour was watching, and decided to move the practice to theoretical lessons indoors.

_Thumpity-thump  
Thumpity-thump_

Wednesday:  
The football trials had been a great success. Cameron and his mother had watched. It was soon apparent that he was not going to make the offensive line, most of the others vastly out muscled John. Though wide receiver was a possibility. But the coach had said he looked most promising as a quarterback. "You need to be able to judge your opponents weaknesses and strengths. Know your own team. Think on your feet. React to change. Quarterback is the position for a natural leader." He was invited back for practice, with high hopes of making the reserve team.

Afterwards his mother had told him that she had spoken to the coach. "John must not appear in any photos. Our family has history with his father. We can't allow him to trace us." The coach had assured her that it was OK, and so his mother was happy for him to take part.

_Thumpity-thump  
Thumpity-thump  
_  
Thursday:  
Cameron had assured John that she was nearly fully healed. "My flesh heals quicker than yours. I have lost body mass because of the repair process, but I will regain it as I eat over the next few days." John had been tempted to ask her to show him the healed flesh. He had not wanted her going to cheerleading try-outs if she was going to look like a car crash victim.

In the end he needn't have worried. According to Cameron, when the girls had seen her take off her jacket, they had been horrified at the emaciated appearance of her body. "We can't take you, no way. You're anorexic, you will make us look fat." John had tried to keep a straight face when Cameron had said. "They do not think I am strong enough. They want me to go and see the councillor. I have explained that I will regain weight quickly. They will try me again next week." John had been concerned about the councillor, but Cameron had assured him that she 'knew' the councillor, and that he would not cause a problem.

_Thumpity-thump  
Thumpity-thump_

Friday:  
Morris had joined them for lunch. "Never seen you eat so much Cameron." He had said. "Pizza is divine." She had replied. John was still confused at Cameron's motives with Morris. It was as if she was experimenting with how to appear more human. By saying and acting in different ways, she was finding out what worked, and what made her appear different. Sometimes John felt jealous about this, even though he should not doubt her in this matter. Was he losing something that he felt should belong to him? This thought had troubled him at the time, and still did. "Do I think of Cameron as something, or someone, I own?" He asked himself. Still, the way the conversation had gone, he needn't have worried. "So Cam, you into music?" Morris had asked. "Not really." she had replied. Morris had then continued, "I like all sorts, myself. But I think I like metal most." John had stifled a laugh, but when Cameron had replied. "That explains a lot." he had wondered if there was something deeper going on in her thought processes. Could she develop a sense of humour? Or was she mimicking the type of phrase she had heard others use.

When they had got home. His mother had presented them with the news. "I've tracked down the source of the parts used at the factory." She had said. When John had looked surprised, she had added. "I can use the internet too." And then smiled. "We visit it tomorrow. We need to go by train, as we must not run the risk of getting stopped at a roadblock." Derek had objected. "We can't take much guns and stuff on the train." His mother had smiled at that and said. "I've a plan to cover that." Planning, always planning, that was his mom.

_Thumpity-thump  
Thumpity-thump_

Saturday:  
The 'guns and stuff' had been squeezed into a suitcase, which Cameron had held in one hand, swinging it around gently as if it weighed nothing.  
The factory was about two hours away on the train. And what a waste of time it was. The factory had closed down some weeks before, the equipment already sold off. An empty shell they had wandered around, but had found nothing. There was no security, but at one point he felt that he was being watched. Even catching sight of someone out of the corner of his eye. But when he swung around they were gone, and there had been no where for them to hide. He asked Cameron, who said that she could not detect anything, but she seemed to stay closer to him than normal.

And so here they were on the train, on the way back.

John was reading through his notes from the day, when:

_Thumpity-thump_, **THUMP**  
_Thumpity-thump_

What the hell was that? He looked up to see Derek's startled expression. Sarah was waking up. Cameron was already on her feet, and reaching for the suitcase.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

As soon as she had heard the sound above their heads Cameron had stood up. They were in a bay of four seats at the front of the carriage, which was mid way along the train. Cameron was placed next to the door, facing the rear. Derek next to her. The suitcase that she had brought with her was behind her, at the back of the seats. She reached for it and placed it on the table in front of them, and paused, her hands near the catches, waiting for further developments. Swaying slightly as the train raced along.

Opposite them were a couple, mid fifties, who had been playing cards, they had paused, looking up at the roof.

The rest of the carriage was mostly empty. A well built man with early greying hair, was seated half way down, facing towards them. He looked towards Cameron, and met her eyes, then he too looked towards the roof. Further down, a pair of early-teens boys had peeped over the seats they were in, seeing nothing they sat back down. Their parents had not stirred.

There had been a loud thump moments before on the roof at the front of the carriage. Just after they had passed under a road bridge.

The couple in the seats opposite looked back at each other.

"Was that something falling onto the roof?" The man asked.

His wife was still holding a hand of cards. "Don't worry dear, just a loose brick perhaps. Anyway if..."

She was interrupted by a series of softer thumps on the roof. Heading towards the back of the train.

"That sounded like footsteps, someone must have fallen onto the roof. Should we help them?" The man asked.

He rose and started walking to the back of the carriage, then turned around and said. "They may try and climb down between the carriages. They were lucky to miss the overhead power lines when they fell. They're probably hurt."

John and Derek both looked to Sarah for guidance. She had turned around, and she and Cameron were looking towards the back of the carriage.

Cameron spoke up, and confirmed their fears. "That was heavy. Perhaps a very large person. Perhaps something else."

She flicked the catches on the suitcase, and raised the top slightly.

Sarah stood up and said. "John. Get down. On the floor." Her voice was steely, but she could not hide her nervousness.

The man had come back up the carriage, and walked to his seat.

"They jumped on to the next carriage. May be a drunk or something, Kay, pass the camera, I can get a good shot of this." He said, reaching out for the SLR Kay passed him.

The boys had scrambled up from their seats, ignoring their parents calls to sit back down. They went to the door at the rear of the carriage to look through.  
The well-built man in the middle of the carriage stood up, cleared his throat.

"Stand back from the door please. Return to your seats and keep the gangway clear. Transport police." He called out in an authoritative, and somewhat smugly arrogant, voice.

"Transport police. Transport police." Said one of the boys in a mocking tone. Receiving a sharp word from his parent in return.

The man took a badge from his packet and held it out, showing it, but no one watched him, their eyes were all drawn to the door at the back. As he returned the badge to his packet, his jacket opened, revealing a gun in a shoulder holster.

Cameron kept the lid of the case ajar, even after the policeman had walked to the rear of the carriage. As he reached the door, there was a sound of tearing metal from the next carriage. The teenage boys gasped.

"What the! Mom, Dad, look!" One shouted.

Then the distant sound of something heavy falling to the floor. The policeman slid open the door. He stopped still for a moment, unsure of what he was seeing, then pulled his gun, and drew the slide back to chamber a round.

Sarah watched this with a sick sense of dread. Something must have followed them from the factory. If it had been waiting for them, then it would have engaged them then, instead of now, when there was a train full of witnesses. But now was not the time to think of that. She told herself. Now was the time to get John safe, to get them all safe, and to destroy the machine that had come after them. She turned back to the others.

Cameron had opened the case revealing an assortment of guns, bombs, ammunition. Derek nodded in approval.

"I suggest we arm ourselves." Cameron said in her flat monotone.

Sarah took a pump action shotgun, and placed a bandoleer over one shoulder, she handed a heavy vest to John, who put it over his head and secured it. Derek also took a vest, then picked up the fully auto MP5, and wedged several magazines into the loops on the vest. John reached for a handgun, and picked up a Glock 20, with a couple of magazines rubber banded to it. He stuck the Glock in his waistband, the magazines in his trouser pockets. Derek drew out a hefty backpack, and placed it on the seat vacated by Cameron.

"Look after this." He said to John, who had moved to the door. Then almost as an afterthought, Derek picked up a few more MP5 magazines, and stuck them into his vest loops.

"Heh! What do you think you are doing?" The man opposite was staring at them in wide eyed astonishment. Kay was aghast at the array of weaponry on display, and hissed at him.

"Chris, leave it. Can't you see! Terrorists."

Sarah turned to them and said in an urgent voice. "Please. Move to the next carriage, then run or get down. If shooting starts, get on the floor. Try and protect yourselves." She paused, then added in a voice breaking up with sadness. "I'm so sorry..."

When the couple did not move, Cameron turned to them, took the camera from the man's hands, and snapped the lens off. She flicked her head towards the door leading towards the front of the train. "Get out."

The couple wavered, and Cameron reached out and grasped the man by the shoulder. Picked him up and pushed him violently to the door. She then grabbed the woman, threw her into the arms of the man and shouted. "Now!"

There was a scream from the carriage behind them, then shouting, the sound of people panicking, and more screams. The teenage boys staggered back from the door, one of them shouting. "Run, Shoot it! Mum! Dad! Run!"

The policeman let the boys move back past him, then levelled his pistol and let off two quick rounds. Tap tap. Then lowered his gun. The teenage boys scrabbled on the floor, and pulled themselves into the seat bay where their parents were waiting, bewildered by the sudden events. The policeman had raised his gun, and started firing again. Tap tap, tap tap, tap tap, tap tap...

Sarah's found her voice, and screamed at her son. "John! Move back now! Other carriage."

Derek stood up and braced himself against the seat and table, he raised his gun and sighted towards the door. Cameron had slung a heavy black-steel automatic shotgun across her back. Stuck a Glock 20 into her belt, and slung a bandoleer of shotgun shells over her left shoulder. A second bandoleer with assault rifle magazines was slung over her right shoulder, and webbing with grenades of some kind clipped to her belt. Finally she picked up the TAR-21 assault rifle, and chambered a round. Where had she gotten that? Derek thought. Somehow he felt very under armed. He took the last gun from the suitcase, a Glock 17, and two magazines.

Derek looked back to the policeman braced in the far doorway, who had stopped firing, the magazine empty with the slide locked back. He drew his spare magazine and dropped out the empty one. As he was sliding in the new one, he jerked upright, and dropped the gun and magazine. His body went limp, his arms and legs dangling, he appeared to be held by his head. Then he dropped to the floor. Behind him was a man in a dark blue suit, average height and weight.

Derek did not recognise him, but he heard Sarah quietly gasp. "Frank!"

The man was holding a shining silver knife in his right hand, a long stiletto, still coated in the policeman's blood. Something was not right, Derek blinked and looked again, more closely, at the knife. The hand was the knife. As he watched, the blade of the knife shortened. It seemed to retract into the man's finger.

The man looked up at them. He turned his head slightly to look at John. And smiled.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

The sun was low on the horizon, and as the train rounded a corner, onto the next seemingly endless stretch of track, a deep red glow entered the carriage from the fading light. A sudden brighter spark of blue lit up the now darkening trees by the track, as the overhead cables briefly lost contact with the trains pick ups.

Seemingly oblivious to this, the man in the blue suit at the far end of the carriage moved his gaze away from them, looking around inside the carriage. Then he turned back to them. Looked at John, and started walking slowly towards them. Swaying slightly as the train passed over undulations in the track.

Sarah knew what to do next. She turned to her son and shouted. "John. Next carriage. Now!"

She did not wait for a reply, but picked up the bag that Derek had placed next to him, as she did she turned to the nearer machine and shouted. "Cameron. Rip up the floor, and side walls of the connecting corridor. Then shaped charges on the coupling. We need to separate the carriages."

She turned back to John, and threw him the bag. "Claymores, two each side of the door, on the outside, facing this way. Keep the remote."

She moved to stand in the corridor alongside Derek, who was still braced in the seat, leaning his gun on it. He had never seen anything like what they were facing, but he had heard tales. Stories that were told on those quiet nights. Stories that he had never fully believed, which had always seemed far fetched and exaggerated. But he clutched the gun to himself, as the man advanced. Then the machine paused. It was next to the family who were trying to hide in the seat bay. Derek could not see them, but he had seen the teenage boys trying to hide there earlier. Behind him came the sound of Cameron starting to demolish parts of the train.

The man lifted an arm and pointed into the bay. The arm seemed to thin, the blue of the jacket compressing against the arm, then slowly turning to a silver as it extended into a blade that was stretching towards the cowering family.

The shotgun went off next to his ear. The man's arm took the hit at the elbow, jagged shards of silver erupted, and the blade fell to the floor with a clang, its tip coated in red. The man turned his head back towards them. As he did so the jagged shards on his stump of an arm retracted in on themselves. The stump stretched out, and the arm seemed to grow back as they watched. The blade on the floor appeared to melt, and turn into a silver snake, that wriggled over the floor towards the man's foot. As it struck his foot, it turned to the same black as his shoe, and became absorbed. The man then began walking slowly towards them.

Cameron was attacking the short connecting corridor. She had already ripped up the covering over the coupling, flinging pieces of metal and plastic behind her, narrowly missing the couple who were trying to hide, too terrified to move on up the train with the other passengers from that section.

John could see down towards the track, the sleepers racing past. He could see the coupler, two pieces of hefty metal holding hands, holding the train together. A thick cable next to them, carrying power through the train. A sudden blast of air made him look up, Cameron had kicked out the side wall, exposing the outside ends of the carriages. The sound of gunfire erupted from where Derek and his mother were engaging the other machine. John worked quickly, pulling out a Claymore. The magnet on it's base secured it firmly, he checked he had the remote in his pocket, then pulled out the safety pin. Seeing it was OK, he picked up another Claymore.

Derek held the MP5 steady as he fired on full auto. The impact from the bullets halted the advance of the machine. Ripping into its surface, and causing small craters of silver. The shotgun blasts from Sarah were more effective. She was aiming for it's legs, each shot ripping out chunks of silver, causing it to collapse to the floor. Derek emptied the magazine, and pulled out a new one from his vest. At the same time Sarah had emptied the shotgun, she began filling it with shells pulled from the bandoleer. Her fingers shaking, dropping shells on the floor. Derek looked up at the machine as he re-cocked the gun. The silver craters on it's body were filling in, the blue of it's suit merging together back into a seamless surface. The last streams of silver, liquid like mercury, were re-absorbing into it's feet. It began to move towards them more quickly.

Cameron was finishing placing the shaped charge from her belt, as John took the last Claymore out of the bag. She stood up, and jumped over the gap into the rear carriage. Moving the TAC-21 into her hands.

The machine was half way towards them when Derek started firing again. The bullets were only slowing down the machine, it still made progress towards them.

Sarah screamed at him. "We must hit something vital, a chip or power cell. Keep firing."

Did she really think I was going to stop? He thought.

The machine was only a few yards from them, and Sarah was still struggling with the shotgun, when a stubby nosed rifle appeared next to Derek. It erupted fire towards the still advancing machine. It's face and chest were smashed into a chaos of silver. Cameron stepped forward and kicked it, sending it sprawling back down the carriage, as she let the empty magazine fall, and replaced it with a full one.

"Move back. Now!" She shouted at Derek, Sarah had already retreated to where John waited, clutching the remotes.

Derek scrambled backwards, then turned and leaped over the gap. Clutching at the fragments of the door on the other side, he pulled himself in.

The machine had reformed, and was advancing on Cameron once more. She finished loading the TAC-21 and raised it to fire. The machine raised it's left arm and a blade of metal elongated towards her, fast enough to knock the gun to one side. The machine raised it's other arm, which elongated to a blade, as it did so it pulled it's arm back to strike at Cameron's chest. Cameron was struggling to bring her assault rifle round in time. She dropped it and struck with her fist at the approaching blade. The impact of her fist caused ripples in the arm, but the silver metal oozed around her small hand. She pulled back, but the silver held her in a vice like grip. She raised her foot and kicked it in the chest, but held by her hand, the machine stayed on her, it swung again with a free blade straight at her neck.

The blade shattered as a shotgun blast hit it. A second shot hit its leg, causing it to collapse to the floor. Cameron swung her free hand to chop at the blade which held her fist. She broke free, and the metal encasing her hand fell to the floor, to reform into silver rivulets that streamed towards the fallen machine.

As Cameron turned back towards them, Sarah screamed to John, "Now! Blow the coupling." He pressed the switch as Cameron reached the edge of the far carriage. There was a blinding flash, and a loud explosion, the floor shifted violently under their feet, throwing them to the floor. Cameron was flung back towards the silver monster, which had reformed and was advancing once again.

Suddenly the carriage heaved, and the gap between them and Cameron increased, the coupling had broken.

John started shouting in a panicky voice. "Cameron, jump. Please jump. I need you. Jump."

The carriage jerked, and the gap stopped increasing as the carriages became held by the connecting cable that was now taught, and strained with the tension between the carriages. Cameron started running towards them again.

Sarah shouted to him. "The Claymores, NOW!"

At the same time a hail of bullets from Derek's MP5 struck the shape behind Cameron, slowing it down, but his magazine was soon empty. She reached the edge of the carriage and leaped. Her arms reaching for the floor beneath their feet. A silver snake surged from behind her and grasped her ankle. As she came down, her hands grasped the edge of the carriage, her fingers biting into the metal. The snake tightened its grip on her ankle. At the same time it shortened as the machine came walking towards them. Then there was a Crack,Crack,Crack from Johns pistol, the large bullets thudding into the snake, and causing it to part. Cameron pulled herself into the carriage just as the machine leaped after her. At that moment John hit the remote, and the Claymores blew. A thousand shards and fragments flew into the advancing hulk of metal, ripping it into twisted sheets of silver.

Sarah aimed at the taught cable still holding the carriages together, she fired and with a snapping sound it parted, the gap between the carriages suddenly increasing again. As the squirming sheets of metal fell, some of them started to coalesce rapidly, one blob, reached out a tentacle and grabbed the trailing cable on the carriage they were on. Other blobs of silver scattered onto the track, some plastered the face of the now quickly retreating carriage, sparks flying from it's brakes. The one that had grabbed onto the cable started to form into a human shape. Sarah started firing at it, but with the bouncing on the track, she missed more than she hit. It reached up with more offshoots to the carriage and pulled itself towards them. Cameron had pulled the Glock from her waistband and levelled it at the blob in the doorway. As she fired it leaped up and outwards.

At first John thought that the remains of the machine had jumped out into the dusk. But a thump on the roof above their heads told him otherwise.

The train, now missing half it's carriages thundered on into the night. Sparks flew from the overhead cables as a formless mass slithered along the top of the last carriage.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

The train rumbled along the track. The driver seemingly oblivious to the missing carriages at the back. On the roof of the last carriage, a dark shape oozed along, feeling it's way. Then it reared up, it's mass forming into a humanoid shape. Perhaps only four feet tall, but then its arms extended, and stretched down to the roof. They narrowed to become harsh spikes, the colour draining out of them as they became silver, catching the final red and purple glow of the sunset.

The rear of the carriage was open, the door ripped away, the surrounding surface pock marked with damage from flying shrapnel. The inside of the carriage was brightly lit, at the far end some faces could be seen in the far carriage, pressed to the door, watching inwards with incredulous expressions. Inside the carriage, some stragglers cowered in the seating bays. Trying to remain inconspicuous, trying to hide from the quartet in the central aisle.

Three of this quartet were kneeling on the floor, staring back at the gaping hole at the rear. An assortment of guns clutched in their hands, their faces tense, breathing heavily. Sweating, even though there was a chill wind blowing in through the hole.

The fourth stood impassively. Hardly moving except for the gentle swaying of the train. Her face a mask.

"Is that it?" Sarah asked breathlessly.

"I don't think so." John replied. "I thought I heard it jump to the roof."

In unison they looked up. There was no clue, no sound to be heard. Sarah finished reloading her shotgun.

John said. "Some of the..." He hesitated. "... thing. I thought I saw..... saw it going back together on the train we left behind. Can it survive?" He turned to the others, seeking reassurance against his fears.

"I heard some tales." Derek said. "The later models had redundancy. Two power units, two chips." He took a deep breath. "Could be if there is something on the roof, it's still alive."

"Just one chip left in it then." Sarah said. She pumped a round into the gun, turned to them and said with grit in her voice. "All the more chance of us hitting it."

Cameron held her hand up. "I can hear it." Cameron's voice was soft. "It's up there."

The sound of punctured metal rang to their left. Swinging around to look John saw a thin silver blade running from the ceiling to the floor. It abruptly contracted upwards, thickening as it withdrew, then vanished into the roof. There was silence for a brief moment, then a loud burst of gunfire from Derek's MP5, and the ceiling shattered, fragments of plastic rained down on them. When his gun fell silent, the ceiling was peppered with holes above their heads. He reloaded.

"Now it can see us." Cameron said.

A speck of silver appeared in a hole above their heads. It rapidly grew, and a blade came shooting down towards them. Cameron gently kicked Derek out of the way, then grasped the blade. The other three scrambled backwards, as she tried to break the metal, but it slithered in her grasp and retreated back to the ceiling.

"It does not want to show itself." Cameron said.

"If it's lost metal, it's lost protection. Too much chance we can hit it to hurt it." Sarah replied.

"So we're safe down here right?" John asked.

As if to answer him, the blade came down again. There was a scream of pain from the seating bay to one side of them. John turned around to see the middle aged man pinned to the floor, the silver spike had pierced his shoulder and he was pinned like a butterfly on a board. Then once more the blade retreated.

Derek and Sarah both started firing into the ceiling. Cameron had still not fired. She had a Glock stuck in her waistband, and a large black-metal shotgun in her hands. John saw this, saw the metal stock, and had an idea.

"Cameron. I need your help." He called to her, then turned to the others. "Keep it occupied. I know how to beat this thing."

He lobbed the Glock he was carrying towards his mother, and the magazines from his trouser. Then turned to Cameron.

"We need to get on the roof. Carry the shotgun. I need you to get us up there from the door, and make sure we don't fall off. And whatever you do, do NOT stand up." He took her hand and led her to the gaping hole at the back of the carriage.

Derek had started picking his shots. "Only one magazine left." He called out to Sarah. "I hope your kid know what he's doing."

Sarah had her eyes fixed on the ceiling. Concern on her face. "So do I....So do I...." She muttered, then fired again at a trace of silver.

Needing both hands, Cameron stuck the shotgun into her belt, then swung out of the remains of the door, and punched her hands into the body of the carriage to pull herself up to the roof. She looked down to the far end and saw a small, almost child like, figure which had silver spikes for arms. It was plunging them into the roof of the carriage, again and again.

She reached down and swung John up beside her, keeping one arm around him. Hugging him to her, whilst her feet and other arm were braced to the surface of the roof.

Derek was on his final magazine. Sarah had emptied the shotgun. She pulled the Glock and started firing to the roof, which was becoming increasingly shredded.

"We should move." Derek shouted.

"NO!" She shouted back. "We must stay here, to stop it dropping down."

Derek fired again, a short burst, then his gun fell silent.

"No more bullets." He yelled. "Whatever he's going to do, do it quickly." At that moment a blade came down again. This time the machine could see them much more clearly now, and it's aim was true. The blade struck Derek full in the chest. He was slammed into the floor, his ribs creaking under the impact. In it's depleted state the machine had lost strength, it could still pierce human flesh, but it could not pierce the thick layers of Kevlar in the jacket. The blade withdrew, ready to be tried again.

On the roof John was eyeing up the overhead cables, and the diminutive figure spasmodically slashing down into the carriage.

"Cam." He said. "You need to throw the shotgun to about a foot above it's head. So that the gun is end on. It needs to be close to the cable, close to it's head. Do it now."

As he said this, the figure looked up. Seeing him, it abandoned it's destruction of the carriage and started moving towards him. Cameron had drawn the gun, and now threw it in a smooth motion towards the advancing figure.

Inside the carriage, there was brief respite for the crouching pair. Sarah reloaded the Glock with the final magazine, and breathed a sigh of relief. Then she realised where the machine had gone.

"JOHN!" She screamed, dropping the Glock, and scrabbling on the floor. Despair filled her voice, as she tried to get to her feet, lunging down the corridor in a desperate and futile attempt to stop the machine's purpose.

On the roof, the gun arced towards the figure. As it got close the barrel struck the cable, and slid along it. Seeing it the figure stretched out a hand, reaching for it. Arm lengthening.

"Like Adam." Cameron said.

A spark of electricity leaped from the stock of the gun to the hand of the machine. With the arc formed, the spark got brighter. Then the machine grasped the gun. Huge current surged, the cables above their heads shook and hummed, and gave off warmth. The gun started glowing, then brightened to a red heat. At the same time the machine started going through spasms of reformations, it's liquid metal heating up, the machine trying desperately to shift it's vital parts away from the heat, but unable to stop the current flow. The electricity arcing between gaps, rejoining the metal together. Then the heat in the gun got high enough to explode the full load of shells. It erupted in cascade of molten shards, the machine below it gave one final desperate twist of shape, then shattered into glowing fragments, that cascaded out into the darkness.

The train continued on. Heading into the night.

Cameron swung John back through the door, then jumped down beside him.

"Terminated." She said, walking towards Derek and Sarah.

"How.... how..." Sarah said, her mind racing. "Are we safe?" Staring at John.

"For now." Cameron replied in her monotone. Then added as if in an afterthought. "It did not get too hot. There was not enough heat for a big explosion." Sarah glanced up at her. Cameron winked.

Epilogue:  
  
Agent Ellison approached the stationary carriages. It had only been a half hour since they had come to a stop. The brakes had applied automatically, screeching to a halt. The rest of the train was being followed by police helicopters and patrol cars. He thanked the Lord for having the good fortune to be nearby, with his radio tuned to the police bands.

"This is the type of work of my favourite fugitive." He muttered to himself.

There was a child, perhaps four or five, approaching along the track. A boy in shorts. He seemed to be searching for something, looking down at the track and surrounding gravel. A passenger? Ellison thought, and started towards him.

As he approached the boy, he realised that he had been mistaken. He was not a boy at all, but a girl in a skirt. When he was close enough to speak, he realised she was older than he'd thought, about mid teens.

She spoke to him in an impatient tone, a voice used to being obeyed.

"I must go Fort Stantham. It is one hundred and forty seven miles from here by road. You will drive me."

Ellison spoke a silent prayer. "Please Lord, give me strength for dealing with children."

The girl looked at him for a few seconds, then said. "Now! Didn't you hear me?"

Ellison's prayer remained unanswered. He sighed, and pulled a coin from his pocket.

"I'm not a taxi driver." He drawled at her in his laid back tones. "But I will help you."

He flipped the coin to her. "Here's a quarter. Call a cab."

With this he turned on his heels and headed back to the train. When he reached it he turned around.

The girl was still staring at him.

THE END

A/N:  
Hope you enjoyed it. All comments welcome, especially on how I can improve as a writer. Am starting work on the final part of this vaguely related series of three stories. 'Dominion' should be ready in a couple of weeks. Since writing chapter 1, I've read some other stories in this group. Seems that many other people have covered the school angle, all much better than I can hope to! So I'll be leaving that now, and moving on to other areas.


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